


the next six months

by swapcats



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: F/F, Post-Series, canon girlfriends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-21
Updated: 2014-12-21
Packaged: 2018-03-02 15:52:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2817824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/swapcats/pseuds/swapcats
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Vacations in the Spirit World don't last forever.</p><p>The first six months of Korra and Asami's relationship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the next six months

     In the Spirit World, everything is new and different. Peaceful, without being settled. There's so much to see, all of it shifting, flowing from one feeling to the next in a blur of colour, a sparkle of touch and taste. Korra watches Asami drink in this new realm, a world she should know like the back of her hand, bridge that she is, and realises she's barely scratched the surface of anything.

     Time flows in meandering circles, spiralling away from and towards them all at once. A fortnight feels like a day, an hour, a minute, but Korra can't tell if that's the essence of the Spirit World at play, or a side effect of Asami's unfaltering presence.

     When it comes to an end, when the responsibilities of their world can no longer escape them, they step back through the portal. Korra readjusts quickly, watching with a smirk as Asami tries to renegotiate the boundaries of a world beyond the spirits. Korra hooks an arm around Asami's, knowing how she feels: everything is too definite, too certain. Colours are bold and static, and each step is deliberate, heavy.

     “I guess it's back to work,” Asami says, surprised by the sound of her own voice.

     Around them, Republic City is still a war-torn ruin. Husks of buildings lie on their sides, collapsing in on themselves. Fresh clouds of dust and dirt rise up in the distance, and debris fills the streets like so many footsteps once did.

     “No rest for the Avatar,” Korra says, surveying the city with a sigh. She supposes hoping that a brand new Republic City would've sprang from the ground, fully-formed, while they were away is asking for a little too much. “Or her loyal band of companions.”

     She lets go of Asami's arm and hops over a spirit vine, kicking a loose bit of rubble that's made its way this far out.

     “Loyal companion?” Asami asks, amused. Her lips quirk into a smile, and she follows Korra over one vine and onto another. She stands behind her, chin on her shoulder. “Is that what we're calling it?”

     Korra puffs out her chest, fists resting on her hips.

She brought down Equalists and Red Lotus, survived poison coursing through her body and put an end to a dictator's crushing regime, but her stomach still flutters with nerves as she draws in a breath and says, “... girlfriend?”

     Asami's answer comes by way of her arms wrapping around her waist. She lets out a soft laugh and presses her nose to Korra's cheek, and Korra grins, far too pleased with herself—and with good reason.

     She turns her head to the side, and in a matter of seconds learns that, yes, kissing Asami in this world is just as warm and familiar and stomach-twistingly wonderful as it was in the Spirit World.

*

     “Okay. _First_ of all,” Bolin says, pointing a ceaselessly wagging finger at her. He's trying to make himself sound furiously serious, but doesn't really succeed in doing anything but make his voice raise a few octaves and warble. “You can't just _disappear_ from a _party_ for _two weeks_.”

     So much for _Welcome home, Korra! You sure did deserve that vacation after saving the world! Again!_ Korra stares at Bolin, trying not to break out into a grin, and solemnly waits for him to continue the lecture. 

     Pabu runs up the back of his leg and winds his way around to Bolin's shoulder, chattering in stern support. 

     “And second of all... ?” Korra asks when Bolin does nothing but furrow his brow with such intensity that it's like watching two caterpillars finally being reunited.

     “Second of all!” Bolin announces, “ _Second of all_ —you and Asami?”

     Korra nods. Bolin glances at Pabu, who shrugs.

     “You _and_ Asami?” he tries again.

     “It's still a yes.”

     “Wait, wait. _You_ —” Bolin sounds each word out slowly, helpfully pointing to Korra, lest she forget who she is. “And _Asami_?”

     Swivelling on the spot, Bolin points to the invisible Asami. Korra steps forward, placing her hands on the backs of Bolin's wrists. If there's one thing he can't resist, it's a hug.

     “Me and Asami,” Korra agrees. She tries to state it matter-of-factly, like it's no big deal, but her cheeks are damn near aching from smiling, and she just hopes her face isn't as bright red as it feels.

     “I told you, Pabu!” Bolin says, sweeping Korra up into his arms. He squeezes her tightly, laughing, and says, “Oh, I'm so so _so_ happy for you guys.”

     “Easy, there,” Korra says, patting him on the head, arms slipping around his shoulders. “I'm happy for us, too.”

     And she is. Happier than she remembers being in a long, long time. Finally understanding _why_ she could only reach out to Asami in her darkest hours.

     “Oh!” Bolin says, on the verge of tearing up. “ _Finally_! Someone for me and Opal to double-date with!”

*

     The Avatar's work really is never over. There are meetings upon meetings, half of which Korra spaces out during and wonders if she _really_ needs to be there as the heads of nations talk about grain production, and she spends more time with the former-Prince, almost-King Wu than she ever expected to. He's come on leaps and bounds since they first met, and Korra's nothing short of impressed; all that's left to work on is him being less... _Wu_.

     It's time for her to decide what sort of Avatar she wants to be. How she wants to help people.

     And so she travels.

     She seeks out earthbenders, and reminds them that it isn't all about being solid and unflinching. It's about working together with the rest of the world, with the sun and the rain, bringing life. She heads to the Fire Nation and helps them hone their strength to protect and defend, to act as the spark that fuels industry. She returns to the Water Tribes and lets them know that ice daggers are just as important as their healing powers. She glides from temple to temple in the new Air Nation, certain that Aang is smiling as countless people discover who and what they are. 

     She sits in town halls and village squares with non-benders, hearing them out. Ensuring someone's taking note when they express their concerns, their fears. She's everyone's Avatar, after all.

     She doesn't lecture. She listens. She tries to be there for people in simple, quiet ways; she doesn't have to save the world in order to mean something to people.

     Korra teaches by example. She's the Avatar who's been through so much, too much, but never stops striding forward.

     And before she knows it, a month has passed and she hasn't seen Asami once.

     Asami's based in Republic City – the part that isn't covered in rubble or spirit vines – helping to design a new layout for the city. Working on more secure structures for towering buildings, better sewage systems, wider, safe roads for all kinds of vehicles, more efficient, hidden power lines; everything and anything. 

     Korra sends letters when she can, but she's always on the move, so it's difficult to get much in return. They have a few crackled conversations over the phone, both of them full of so much to say that the mere minutes they're allotted seem to burst at the seams. Korra heaves a heavy sigh from her chest whenever she hangs up or sends a letter, but they're both so busy that there almost, almost isn't time to miss one another. 

     She's never short of distractions, and she's proud of Asami. Besides, they're meeting up on the twenty-fifth—she can hold out for another five days.

     Her journey takes her to an old air temple, in the process of being renovated for two dozen airbenders to move into. It's run by a woman Korra hasn't had the pleasure of meeting, but she's heard from Tenzin and Jinora that she's taken to airbending as though she's been doing it for as long as she's been breathing. The younger benders are being stationed there, and the place is awash with kids swathed in orange, workers dragging exciting looking crates off the airships; gardeners ripping out weeds and cutting down ivy, along with parents fretting over children who were already a handful _before_ they could bend.

     Korra's there to make them feel welcome. To reassure the parents and kids alike that although they're living in an ancient temple in what approximately appears to be the middle of nowhere, they aren't cut off from the rest of the world; they're part of something much bigger than their small group, and they need to learn so that they can really shape the world they're heading out into.

     She gathers quite the crowd as she takes the steps up to the temple, stone worn smooth by hundreds of airbenders hundreds of years ago. She hums to herself, hands in her pockets, taking in the old, careful sculpting, the architecture of the temple that would seem out of time, if it wasn't teeming with the Air Nation's youngest. Old and new, coming together. Reforging a lost nation.

     Korra's so pleased by everything around her, so busy smiling at the unfurling chaos of young airbenders trying to glide off walls, that she reaches blindly for the door and almost walks into someone on their way out.

     “S—” 

     She makes a solid start on an apology, before seeing who it is.

     Her jaw hangs open.

     “Korra!” Asami says. It's Asami. Asami Sato. Asami-her-girlfriend-Sato. There, in the middle of absolutely nowhere. “I had no idea you were going to be here.”

     Korra tries to say something intelligible. _Hah_ —! is the best she manages, before throwing herself at Asami. Arms tight around her waist, she buries her face in Asami's shoulder, completely absorbed by the way Asami wraps her arms around her. Korra smiles into the soft, silky fabric of her shirt, biting the inside of her mouth every time her heart does absurd little somersaults. 

     Around them, the gaggle of knee-high airbenders fall silent. Korra forgets anyone's watching.

     “Asami!” she says, finally leaning back. She beams up at her, and once she's finally established that _yes_ , it _is_ Asami, she rocks forward on the balls of her feet, kissing her. She only means to hold the contact for half a second, but there's something in the way Asami's lips feel against hers that makes her never want to stop breathing her in, but—oh, right. _Children_. “What are you doing here?”

“Work, I'm afraid,” Asami says, frowning as best she can with Korra in her arms. “I was here to talk to some of the airbenders about a new design, and—”

     Korra nods and nods as Asami says things like _propulsion_ and _aerodynamic_ and _seamless interface_ and _renewable fuel source inspired by bending techniques_ , not understanding half of it, but knowing enough from the way Asami's eyes light up as she speaks. Being away from her would be so, so much harder if she didn't know that Asami's work drove her to be the person she is.

     “How long are you here for?” Korra asks, arms falling from Asami's waist so that she can take her hands in her own.

     “I'm just about to leave,,” Asami says, tilting her head towards one of the airships that isn't being used to transport the new airbenders' lives to the temples. Korra swears she doesn't mean to pout; the last thing she wants is for Asami to feel guilty about their conflicting schedules. Luckily, Asami knows her well enough to make it better by leaning forward and kissing her cheek. “Five more days. Just five more days.”

     “Yeah!” Korra agrees, dragging Asami by the hand as she leads her to the airship, seeing her off.

     Half a dozen hugs and a handful this-time-it's- _really_ -goodbye-kisses later, and Asami's up in the air, on her way back to Republic City. Korra watches until the airship's a speck in the distance, disappearing behind a cloud, then spins on her heels, making the young airbenders jump.

     “Alright, kids,” she says, grinning. “Who wants to meet a flying bison?”

*

     The twenty-first rolls around quickly enough, and so does the twenty-second. And then it comes again and again and again. Or so it seems to Korra: after what feels like a month of waiting, she looks at the calender and finds it's only just the twenty-third.

     Of course, once she finally gets to Republic City, time decides to do the reverse and drains away in a blur.

     Korra doesn't know how many times she gets to kiss Asami, but it's too few; she loses count of the late nights and long lie-ins they have, but there still aren't enough of them; they visit newly built parts of the city, restaurants that have cropped up out of nowhere, walk hand-in-hand in the park, but there's still so much more Korra wants to do.

     Yet before she knows it, there she is. Back on the road with Naga. Settling down to sleep in a different bed every night. 

     She's staying with a kindly earthbending couple who are thrilled to host the Avatar when Asami's interview airs. Korra's had the date and time memorised for days, has been endlessly excited about listening to Asami talk about Big Tech Things she probably won't understand, but when she gets back to the room that's been set aside for her, she's exhausted from day spent flinging rocks and – okay – maybe showing off a little too much.

     Perching on the edge of her bed, Korra fiddles with the radio's dial, yawning over the burst of static. She twists her way through squeaks and groans, eventually finding the frequency. A low, soothing voice slips from the speakers as Korra collapses into bed, grunting.

     The bed's hardly uncomfortable, and the sheets aren't scratchy, but Asami isn't there. Korra's been falling asleep alone for most of her life. She never imagined that it could feel so _wrong_ , but there she is, frowning to herself because she can't inch back into Asami's embrace, can't feel her press to her back, knees tucked up beneath hers. Sighing, Korra torments herself with the thought of Asami's skin against hers, the memory of her lips pressed to her jawline, her fingers lazily dancing up and down Asami's spine as she stirs in the morning—

     “And now we're thrilled to introduce Asami Sato, head of Future Industries,” the host says, saving Korra from herself. “She's been good enough to take time out of her immensely busy schedule to talk about the rebuilding of Republic City, as well as a few new exciting projects she's been working on. Let's just say that within a few years, airbenders and airships won't be the only ones flying. Asami—it's great to have you here.”

     Korra turns onto her side, facing the radio. As though it somehow brings her closer to Asami.

     “Thank you, Ken. It's an honour to be here,” Asami says, voice warm and controlled. If she's nervous about being on the radio, nothing's giving her away. “Everything's happening so quickly lately that it's good for everyone involved to be able to step back, discuss what we've achieved so far, and talk about what's to come.”

     Korra's eyes flutter closed to the sound of Asami's voice. For close to half an hour they talk about the new Republic City, how they're going to be able to house more people and provide them with more space. Asami talks about a new, all-terrain Satomobile that's set to launch with just the right mixture of professionalism and excitement, and she answers every question without missing a beat. She's done her research. She's gone in prepared. Korra smiles into the pillow, proud of her.

     “As much as I'd _love_ to hear more about the work you're doing with the new versions of the Hummingbirds, I'm afraid that's almost all we have time for,” the host says, and to his credit, he does sound genuinely curious about anything else Asami could have to say. “But before you go, the question on everyone's lips: what _is_ dating the Avatar like?”

     Korra snorts an incredulous laugh into her pillow, caught entirely off-guard. Well. It looks as if word really does get around. The host's question succeeds in waking her all the way back up, and she opens her eyes, staring at the radio in the dark, as though that'll urge an answer out of it.

     It's the first time in the entire interview Asami's given pause.

     “Well,” she begins slowly. “I don't think of it as _dating the Avatar_. I—I'm dating Korra. I've known her for years, so sometimes it's easy to forget that she's a public figure, this person everyone knows of. But the mere fact that she's _Korra_ is still enough to catch me off-guard.”

     Grinning, Korra smushes her face into her pillow.

     The host chuckles with good humour, and says, “One thing's for sure—it must never be boring.”

*

     After a particularly exasperating speech in Republic City along the lines of Please Don't Throw Rocks At Spirits To Get Their Attention ( _Seriously_ ), Korra bundles up six months worth of nerves and quiet, ebbing dread, and drags Asami away to the Southern Water Tribe.

     She's spent most of her life living amongst the ice and snow, but now that they're back in it, almost home, Asami's the one who looks composed. Korra's restlessly hopping from one foot to another, shoving her hands into her pockets and grinding her teeth together, like she's actually _cold_. Asami keeps sparing her reassuring little glances, and Korra pretends that she has absolutely no idea what they're for.

     They're just heading down to visit her parents. Together. Together-together. It's no big deal.

     Which is exactly why her teeth are chattering.

     Naga helps drag their luggage along, and a whole host of people have come out to welcome Korra home. She waves at them all, giving them her best I'm-not-secretly-terrified smile, mumbling something about it being nice to be back, but hey, they know how it is; gotta go check in on the parents before she can settle down and catch up with anyone else.

     By the time they've stepped inside and Korra's stripped off the thickest of her furs, it's exactly eighty times too hot in there. She's sweating. They're in the South Pole—why is she sweating? She turns to Asami, hoping to find her in a similar state, but of course not. Of course Asami never looks anything less than perfectly put together (she really _does_ roll out of bed looking like that), as comfortable in fluffy-collared furs as she is in her welding goggles.

     “Korra,” Asami says gently, both hands coming to rest on her shoulders. Korra flinches; she can hear her parents preparing dinner in the room beyond, can see warm light skirting out beneath the door. “It's going to be fine, sweetie.”

     Korra shakes her head, and then nods. Of course it's going to be fine. They're _her_ parents. They're _awesome_ and they love her, of course they'll be fine with anything she has to tell them. Unless, unless—

     “No time to waste,” Korra says.

     She'd grab Asami's hand, but she's fairly certain her palms are sweating. Are palms supposed to sweat? Instead, she settles on hooking her arm around Asami's, charging towards the door with so much momentum it's a miracle she doesn't knock it clean off its hinges. 

     Korra comes to an abrupt halt. Her parents turn to face her, and the smell of home-cooked food she's had since a child wafts towards her. The familiarity sinks to the pit of her stomach like a rock. Korra glances between them skittishly, urging herself to find her words.

     Next to her, Asami smiles politely at her parents, waiting for Korra to say what she needs to.

     “Mom! Dad! It's so good to see you,” she says, and okay. She sounded kind of level, kind of confident. Which is something, because she certainly doesn't _feel_ that way. “I, uh—I hope you don't mind, but I brought Asami with me. Because, you know... me and Asami. Asami and me...”

     Spirits help her. She's starting to sound like Bolin.

     Korra stares at the floor and grabs Asami's hand, sweaty palms be damned. 

     “We're kind of doing the whole dating thing.”

     Asami briefly glances at her. _Kind of?_ she mouths, more endeared by Korra's inelegance than wounded by it.

     There's a brief moment where all of Korra's powers lock up inside of her and then try to charge down, down into some darkness where she'll never reach them again, and the whole room flashes with icy heat. It doesn't last for more than a second: her mother steps forward, putting her arms around Korra and Asami both.

     “We know, Korra,” her mother says, kissing her on the cheek. “We _do_ listen to the radio, you know.”

     Korra clings to her mother with her free arm, only breaking the embrace to hug her father.

     “Then we're cool? Everything's good?” Korra asks.

     She doesn't think she's blinked once in the last minute.

     “Of course, Korra,” her father says. “We love you exactly as you are, and Asami is always welcome in our home.”

     Not knowing what to say, Korra shows her relief in the only way she can: she sits at the table, swallowing down food along with several lumps in her throat, and doesn't leave a scrap on her plate. 

     Despite Korra's sudden, ferocious hunger, dinner lasts for hours longer than it usually does. The four of them crowd around the table, talking and talking, telling all there is to about the adventures of the Avatar and Asami's last dozen genius ideas. It's so easy that Korra can't imagine her heart ever skipping a beat in fear – or her palms sweating, for that matter – and she's overwhelmed not only by the ease of acceptance, but how _normal_ it feels.

     How normal _she_ feels.

     When their parents finally let them go – it's been a long trek there, after all – Korra says goodnight to Naga and leads Asami to her bedroom. Door closed, Asami puts her hands on Korra's shoulders, kisses her cheek and said, “See? You had nothing to worry about.”

     Korra rocks on the balls of her feet, gravitating towards the bed.

     “I should've known it'd be fine,” Korra says, “I mean, if I'm gonna bend all ways, I might as well swing both ways, right?”

     Asami laughs, shaking her head with utter endearment, and Korra kicks of her boots off, sprawling out on the bed. She supposes she should change, or at least clean her teeth, but there Asami is, making her bed dip a little more as she sits on the edge of it. Korra snakes her arms around her waist, pulling her down on top of her.

     After a few seconds spent wiggling, Asami manages to reposition herself so that she's more or less lying next to Korra, propped up on an elbow. She lifts a hand and Korra closes her eyes, humming under her breath as Asami's fingers trace the line of her jaw, her lips.

     “Thank you for bringing me here,” she whispers. “Really.”

     Korra opens one eye and then the other, gaze fluttering across Asami's face. For a moment, it's hard to make eye contact, but when she does, Korra can't remember how to look away.

     “How could I not?” she asks.

     Asami's fingers slip into her hair, and she bows her head, kissing her gently.

     “This is nice,” Asami murmurs, “But I'm not sleeping like _this_. Come on.”

     Korra grumbles out her protest, but Asami has her on her feet within seconds. She pretends to sulk, dragging her feet across the room as she seeks out pyjamas and digs her toothbrush out of the bottom of her suitcase. She makes such a fuss of getting ready for bed, complete with exaggerated, jaw-breaking yawns, that Asami's tucked beneath the covers long before she's ready.

     Once she finally meets Asami's rigorous standards, Korra kills the lights and dives into her side of the bed. _Her_ side of the bed is a funny way to think of it, she realises, arms darting around Asami's waist; the entire thing is her bed. Both sides belong to her. 

     Amidst sleepy murmurs, Korra stretches her legs out, warmed from dinner and good company, flooded with pleasant exhaustion. She can't think of a better way to end the day, and with her face buried between Asami's shoulder blades, she opens her mouth to bid her goodnight, but says, “I love you,” easy as anything.

     It takes a few seconds to register the words. When she does, Korra bolts upright, starkly aware that if there was any chance Asami was willing to pretend she didn't hear her, her jumpy reactions have ruined that now. 

     “I, uh... so,” Korra tries, staring down at Asami in the dark.

     “You can unfreeze now, Korra,” Asami says, lifting a hand.

     Her fingertips graze the tips of Korra's hair, and Korra gravitates down, down towards her, head resting against her chest. She's panicking, panicking, because why did she say that, why can't she kept her mouth shut for once—but then she realises it isn't her heart she can hear pounding.

     It's Asami's.

     “I love you too, Korra,” she says, like it's the truest thing she knows in the world.

     Korra clings to her, but doesn't dare to say anything else. Barely dares to breathe. She just lets herself sink against Asami, against the mattress, buried beneath furs and blankets, safe in Asami's arms. She doesn't have to be the Avatar, here. She doesn't have to save the world. All she has to do is be herself, and that's good enough for Asami; Asami who she's drawn into her family, offering her a place to belong.

**Author's Note:**

> I have a few more Korrasami fics over at swapbats.tumblr.com/tagged/swapwrites, if anyone's interested!
> 
> If you enjoyed this fic, please consider sampling or buying my book. https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/538377


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